Won't You Be My Girl?
by QueenOfQuiet17
Summary: When Grace gave Karen a box full of copies of Next to Godliness, she kept one for herself, not knowing just how much of an impact the video would have on her. And when Karen finds out about Grace's little secret, she's determined to give her boss the surprise of a lifetime. Based on 2x06, "To Serve and Disinfect."
1. Prologue

Grace loved a good reveal. The anticipation, the drama, the shock and excitement. You could make nearly anything feel spectacular if you just presented it the right way. And she had a doozy waiting for Will. Now that she had survived the self-induced horror of Manhattan's seediest adult video stores, spending more time bracing herself before she touched any surface than she did looking through the movies, scanning the most disgusting pun-filled titles, picking through tapes with degrading covers until she found the ones with her assistant's picture on them, it was starting to hit her just how ridiculous her day had become, and she knew she had a juicy story to cheer her best friend up with after spending the morning packing away his business.

She just needed to sell it.

She walked into Will's apartment and found him by the TV, wine glass in hand and looking like he had just been put through the wringer. This was perfect; this was too easy. All she needed to do was claim she had the worse day, and they would one-up each other until she could finally show him Karen Walker's acting debut and bask in the glory of his defeat. She poured herself some wine as she listened to his cater-waiter gig from hell, admittedly impressive but seriously lacking the edge her story had, courtesy of her socialite assistant cracking a whip in a latex maid's uniform. She would give it a moment. Let him think he won with the laxatives Jack slipped into his soup. Let him feel victorious for a few seconds. And then go in for the kill.

"Oh, what's this?" she asked as she pulled her copy of _Next to Godliness_ out from inside her blouse. "Oh, yes, yes, yes! Karen actually doing work."

She saw the way Will scrunched up his face and couldn't help but grin. He had no idea what was coming. He couldn't possibly prepare himself. She was living for this. "No, no, Grace, that's not gonna do it," he insisted as she slid the tape into the VCR.

She sat down beside him on the loveseat and pushed play. "Let's just go to the videotape, shall we?"

In an instant, Karen appeared on their screen, twenty years younger but with the same diabolically scorching smirk she got whenever she knew she was in control. It was the same one that infuriated Grace every time she got the distinct impression that Karen was _trying_ to be the worst employee in the world just for kicks, that she reveled in when she realized it was meant for someone else's misfortune, that sometimes set something off inside her that she couldn't quite pinpoint yet, but whatever it was, she knew it felt good. She didn't want to turn her gaze away from the screen-Karen did have a way of commanding your attention-but out of the corner of her eye, she could see Will's jaw start to drop and felt herself nearly matching Karen's smirk at the thought of what would come next.

She just hadn't fully realized she wasn't smirking at the thought of Will's reaction.

Grace felt the slightest spark in her core when Karen let her voice drop to its lowest register, made the most ridiculously terrible dialogue sound insanely convincing. _Impossibly_ convincing. Like Karen wouldn't even need to finish the thought, and you would give yourself completely to her anyway. For a moment, she wondered how she could get Karen to let her voice fall like that for her, without caring to wonder why she wanted to get Karen to let her voice fall like that. How did she not notice this before, the way it seemed like Karen could string together any combination of words and seduce you with them in a heartbeat?

How did something as awkwardly vile as "dirty pig baby" sound so damn _sexy_ when it lived in her mouth?

Karen cracked the whip on screen, making Will and Grace jump in their seats at the sound. Will's reaction had to be from the shock and horror of it all, there was no question, but Grace...she knew it was coming. There were no surprises left; she had this image of her assistant in her head for hours now, ever since she told the guy fixing her fax machine there was no way he could be a fan of Karen's work and she had to race to the nearest video store to be proven wrong. The whip shouldn't affect her like that anymore. But the second she saw it make contact, the second she heard it crisply demand attention, she felt the charge from it run throughout her body, throwing her back onto the loveseat as far as she could go. She felt her heart pounding in the aftermath, felt herself get a little high from the thrill (it couldn't be the wine, she had just gotten started on it), and immediately hoped Will couldn't tell why she jumped when he did.

It didn't feel this exhilarating when she watched it in the office. It didn't feel this sensational. And there was no fucking way she was about to admit that to him.

"Oh, I fold," Will conceded as he toasted the wine glass she had resting against her thigh. But she couldn't register his defeat, couldn't move her glass, couldn't speak; she couldn't take her eyes, her mind off of Karen. When she popped _Next to Godliness_ into the VCR at work, she was overwhelmed by this piece of Karen's past she knew nothing about, would never have guessed in a million years, and couldn't process much of anything beyond the fact that this video was a thing that existed, a thing that Karen had secretly been carrying with her for the last twenty years. But now that the initial shock of it all had hours to wear off, Grace couldn't believe she didn't notice the way Karen moved before, like she knew exactly where she was going to go, but she was in no way going to tell you. She couldn't believe she didn't notice the way she waved that whip around like it was second nature, the way she held it in her hands like she thrived off of the weight of it. She couldn't believe this was the same woman who barely lifted a finger in the office, who slept at her desk through the mornings she actually made an appearance before ten o'clock, who only put down the nail file when she needed a refill on her drink.

Grace had to admit, she had an inkling that Karen had something like this in her. Her assistant always did have a certain air of mystery about her, like you knew she was capable of just about anything but you weren't entirely sure about the things she acts on. She just didn't fully realize the dark haired woman could do the things she was watching her do right now.

And apparently, neither could Will.

"You know, if she showed half the work ethic at the office that she does hovering over that guy, you'd be the most successful interior designer in the world?"

If that wasn't going to pull her out of the moment, his satisfied little laugh at his own question certainly was. What the hell was _that_ about? That snide remark? She looked over at him, actively working to pry her eyes away from Karen, and saw the way his laughter distorted the disgust on his face before it started to die down. She furrowed her brow, debating whether or not she should keep biting her tongue. It was offensive, really, the way it just spilled so easily from his lips; how dare he make fun of her like that? Was this all some big joke at Karen's expense? Is that why he thought she brought the video home?

Well…wasn't it? Come on, Grace. Isn't that what you kept telling yourself? You wanted him to see it because you couldn't believe it, you couldn't even begin to describe it if you tried, and you needed to drag someone down with you, needed someone else to have this knowledge too. Who better than your best friend? Forget about the way you haven't been able to take your mind off of Karen all day. Forget about the way it made you think about those times you felt a flutter when she passed by you, when she got close enough for her gin-soaked breath to warm you and leave goosebumps on your neck in its wake. Forget about how you used to be able to toss those moments to the back of your mind and forget about them until the image of Karen tying someone to the bedpost made you wonder what it would feel like if it were _your_ hands above your head, staring up at the flawless latex vision tightening the knot and knowing you would welcome anything she wanted to do to you.

This wasn't about that. Obviously.

This was for Will to experience, not for you to keep experiencing, to keep feeling, to keep wondering.

That's your story. So stick to it.

Grace let out the least convincing barely-there laugh in response before trying to focus her attention back on the screen. She watched as Karen pushed her latest subject onto the floor and took a moment to draw her tongue across her whip-_Christ,_ Grace forgot that part, how could she forget _that_ part?-and felt herself being pulled into it once again, everything around her starting to fade into the background. She followed the path Karen's tongue was taking and could start to feel a small twinge between her legs, drew in her breath in realization. _Fuck,_ she was screwed. What made her think she could sit here like this without Will catching on to the fact that something was up? She had to get up, had to excuse herself, needed an out. But she knew that if she tried to speak now, there would be something in her voice that would immediately clue him in on everything going on inside of her.

Thankfully, Will opened a window.

"God, this is a trainwreck, I can't look away. And I am not nearly drunk enough for this, which makes it _so_ much worse."

_Yes,_ the wine. Grace will get the rest of the wine, give herself a moment to cool off. And then she can down another glass and power through the rest of their little movie night. Perfect plan. Thanks, Will.

"You are _such_ a child," she muttered in annoyance of his judgment, quickly realizing she needed to cover it up with a nudge and a laugh so she wouldn't show her hand. She saw him start to rise from his seat and quickly shot him down. "I've got the wine. Keep watching your trainwreck."

"Do I have to?" he asked, his joke curling at the edges as he cringed.

She couldn't respond, just got up from the loveseat to grab the bottle of wine resting in the kitchen, before she could blow her cover completely. She steadied herself against the marble of the countertop, closed her eyes and sighed. Come on. Pull yourself together, Grace. Do you realize how insane you're acting right now? It's just Karen. Okay, so maybe it's a new side of Karen. A more intriguing side. A more dangerous side. A more thrilling side. But still. It's just Karen.

But god...was Karen ever _just_ Karen?

She barely had a year and a half under her belt with the dark haired woman, but she could tell you story after story about how their boundaries stopped existing, if they ever existed in the first place. It seemed like every day, Karen had something to say about what she was wearing, and every day, Karen would slide the fabric of Grace's blouse between her fingers and linger there like she knew exactly what she was doing and wasn't about to hide it. She needed more than both hands to count the times Karen had touched her breasts in the office, more than both hands to count the times she felt something because of it before trying to push it to the darkest depths of her mind. There were all those times she would let her eyes ride her assistant's curves before her cheeks flushed with an embarrassment she couldn't quite figure out. The time she fell asleep on top of Karen in a tequila stupor and felt those curves underneath her as she woke up. The disastrous dinner party she had a few weeks ago to break in the new apartment, when Karen complained about the picnic she laid out and the way the place smelled like a litter box and the way her dress landed a little too closely to the _I Love Lucy_ end of the spectrum, but the second Karen hopped onto the kitchen counter with her martini, Grace let her gaze travel up her assistant's legs and for a fleeting moment had the intense desire to be as close to Karen's lips as that drink was. And she knew there were a million other moments she wasn't even remembering right now.

If that was Karen when she was supposed to be _just_ Karen, Grace was just plain fucked from the start. And now, with _Next to Godliness_ in her head, she knew she was in it when she shouldn't be. All because the fax machine needed a fix. And who was the one who shoved a fabric sample in there in the first place, wholeheartedly believing that it could be sent over phone lines?

Just Karen.

_Goddammit._

"Come on, what's taking you so long? Don't leave me alone with this."

Grace tried to shake it all out of her body as best as she could, got herself to a place she thought she could handle around Will, and brought the wine bottle back to the loveseat. She poured, trying to keep her eyes off of the screen even though she could still hear the way Karen's voice dipped from time to time, like this twenty-year-old vision of her knew that Grace was in deep now and felt like completely submerging her. She hid the steadying breaths she was taking in her wine glass, barely taking in Will's reaction to the rest of the video. She stayed perfectly still and perfectly silent, shifting her gaze from the TV to her Cabernet whenever she realized Karen was about to do something that would set her off. She shifted her gaze a lot. Too much, really. What was she going to do when Will looked over at her and realized she wasn't watching? There were going to be questions. And he'd expect her to have answers. And what exactly would she say? How could she explain this one? There had to be some way to weasel out of it, dodge the questions, spit out something that only appeared to be an answer, but at least it was good enough. There had to be...

The spiral her mind was riding ran out the clock. Before she knew it, the screen faded to black.

Holy shit. They made it.

"Well, I'm thoroughly scarred for life," Will sighed as he got up from the loveseat and took away the wine glasses. He set the glasses down in the kitchen sink before he squirmed. "God, I need a shower."

It took a moment for Grace to register what he said and grab the tape from the VCR. "You're calling it a night?" she asked, hastily sliding the tape back into the box before holding it to her chest.

"I guess. Although I'm not quite sure how I'm supposed to sleep after that." He made his way over to his best friend and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Just lock up when you leave," he said, heading for the bathroom before taking a moment to stop. "And throw that thing away, will you?" he asked, gesturing to the video. "We've been tortured enough tonight. That's a side of Karen we never need to see again."

_Are you sure about that?_ Grace thought before her hand raced up to her lips, convinced she had accidentally said it out loud. She watched Will disappear into the bathroom without a second thought and sighed with the relief of knowing it stayed in her head.

She wasted no time hurrying out of Will's apartment across the hall to 9A. But as much as she wanted to be alone throughout the entire movie, the realization that the silence would only amplify her thoughts nearly knocked her to the ground with its weight. This was ridiculous. This shouldn't consume her the way it has. This was going to completely destroy the dynamic she and Karen had been building since she hired the dark haired woman. And wasn't that what Karen was worried about? Isn't that why she nearly quit before she saw what Grace had done for her, before Grace promised that this wouldn't change a thing between them?

No. It wouldn't change a thing between them. She wouldn't let it. Just get a good night's sleep, Grace. This will all go away in the morning.

She said it to herself over and over again until she began to believe it.

Grace started making her way to her bed when she spotted her wastebin out of the corner of her eye. With the video still in her hand, she hovered above the bin, seriously considering what Will wanted her to do with the tape. This was supposed to be a once and done thing, anyway. No one else was supposed to see it. So there was no reason for her not to trash it.

Although...maybe that wasn't the best idea.

Maybe it was a good thing that she had this. That she kept this.

Because as long as it was here, she could hold onto it for safekeeping. After all, she had spent her day hunting for every last copy of this thing just to make sure no one else ever saw Karen like that again. Did Will even realize how easy it could be for someone to just come along and pick this out of the trash, to start the cycle all over again? She wouldn't want it to fall into the wrong hands. And he didn't need to know that she still had it. She sighed and slid the tape onto an end table before going to bed, resolving to find a better hiding spot for it in the morning, out of sight, out of mind. It wasn't like she was ever going to watch it again; she was sure she could find a place in her shoebox of an apartment where it would never see the light of day. It was fine. She was doing Karen a favor. She was being a good friend. No harm done.

In no time, they'd be able to forget this ever happened.


	2. How She's Turned Me On

"_**Please god, won't you make her mine?  
**__**She's got everything I like  
**__**I love how she's turned me on  
**__**Please god, give me what I want  
**__**She's got a bad reputation  
**__**I don't care, 'cause I'm in love  
**__**Won't you be my girl?"  
-Deep Dark Robot, "Won't You Be My Girl?"  
**_

What the hell was Grace staring at?

Any other time, it would have been fine, just another day at the office. It happened constantly. And it wasn't as though Karen hated feeling the redhead's eyes on her. Please. She knew that Grace stole glances from time to time from across the room. She knew that Grace was checking her out at that godforsaken dinner party she threw the other week, trying to prove that she could do things without Wilma. She knew that Grace thought she was getting away with it. And it always filled her with something she couldn't quite put her finger on, but she knew she liked it, knew she wanted to keep it around, because it wasn't like Stan had been giving it to her. Stan hadn't given it to her in years. So she would start to play, too, leaning in close, letting her touch linger just to see what it would do to her boss. And if her fingers grazed the redhead's breasts every now and then, so be it. It got Grace to keep studying her like one of these days, Karen was going to quiz her.

Lately, Karen was beginning to think she should.

But this was different. It had been for the last couple of days. Grace's stare was charged with something she didn't immediately know, had been trying to figure out every time she felt it on her skin. And when she couldn't place it, she started drawing her own conclusions. It didn't feel like curiosity, the way it did when they first met. It didn't feel deliciously greedy on the redhead's part, the way it had started to feel more recently. There was a weird tinge to it now that, after a couple days of speaking only when spoken to and keeping it professional, Karen was starting to believe was judgment. And she couldn't stand it.

It was that damn video. It had to be. Even though Grace would swear it wasn't. But Karen should know by now that everyone's made out to be a liar eventually. This was just par for the course.

So why did this one hurt so much?

She glanced over her desk to the redhead trying to busy herself with her work, and she sighed into her martini. The ridiculous part of it all was that she wasn't even ashamed of the video, not in the way people would probably expect her to be. Sure, she might have fallen in with a smarmy guy who gave her a lot of attention and empty promises, just to convince her to go along with his idea for some easy money; she was just out of college, maybe still a little naive, definitely a little hard up for cash, and Carl was just so damn persuasive when he wanted to be. But as soon as she had put on that maid's uniform, as soon as someone had placed that whip in her hands, she had felt a thrill she had never felt before. She had known that she was capable of things she had never considered before. She had known that she could give Carl the performance of a lifetime, and she had been damn sure that she delivered. She had come alive when she had slipped into character. She had wanted to carry that feeling with her all the time.

She had just forgotten that other people would be seeing this, too. People she didn't know. Viewing, reviewing, doing god knows what to themselves in the process god knows how many times. She had forgotten that everything was beyond her control once the camera was turned off.

It didn't matter so much in the immediate aftermath. Karen Delaney could be someone who held her stint in adult entertainment like a dirty little secret that didn't need to be that much of a secret to begin with. But over the years, Karen Delaney slowly morphed into Karen Walker. And Karen Walker had a husband with a certain image to uphold. One that didn't include her walk on the wild side. One that swept youthful indiscretions under the rug and never spoke of them again. One that taught Karen that _Next to Godliness_ was dirty, was a secret, was something she had to make sure Stan never knew existed. Because god forbid they do anything to spice up this beige little portrait of a marriage. God forbid they do anything unexpected.

God forbid they surprise each other once in a while.

Maybe her marriage died not too long after the vows, but at least Karen Walker was well off. At least Karen Walker didn't have to worry about money. And money meant security, so Karen Walker didn't have to worry about that, either. That was more than she could say for Karen Delaney. So she kept Stan in the dark, knowing there was no way she could trust him with this piece of her past. He had his secrets; she had hers. Neither one gave a voice to any of them. Everything balanced out in the end.

But Grace...in the year and a half that she had been working for Grace, she had come to trust her more than anyone else in her life. If anyone was going to find out about the video now, it should have been a relief that it was her. And after the inevitable jokes from a redhead who was having way too much fun with this new discovery, it _was_ a relief. Grace had gone out of her way to protect Karen. Grace went above and beyond. Grace promised that it wouldn't change the way she looked at Karen. Grace cared. Karen just wished she knew what the hell happened between then and now that made Grace look at her like that.

It was getting to be too much, really.

"Oh, good _lord,_ honey," she finally blurted out, breaking the thick silence of the office after she caught Grace averting her gaze for the millionth time this afternoon, "what's the problem?"

Grace snapped to attention, her eyes wide like a deer in headlights. "Problem?" she asked, her voice carrying the slightest tremor in it. "There's no problem."

"Really? Because you keep looking over here like there is."

"Karen, we're fine, I swear, just get back to work," Grace said hurriedly like Karen had something more pressing to do than the copy of _Vogue_ that was opened up in front of her, hyper-focused on the sketch underneath her pencil like it was going to end the conversation. The dark haired woman let the silence start to build again, let Grace think for a moment that she had just avoided an interrogation. And then...

"This is about the video, isn't it?"

Karen heard the tip of Grace's pencil snap before the redhead slammed the rest of it down on her desk and steadied herself. It was all the answer she needed. But she wasn't going to stop until Grace admitted it. God, what was the big deal anyway? It was one video. It wasn't even like it was that big of a shock; with as much time as they've spent together under their belts, Grace had to know that something like this wasn't necessarily out of the realm of possibility. Grace had to know that Karen had a little bit of this inside her. Right? Isn't that why she started staring in the first place? Wasn't she curious?

Why exactly did Karen want her to be curious?

Grace didn't look up from her workspace. "There's nothing going on," she said before a beat. "But if there _was…"_ There we go. Karen sighed at the response; Grace wasn't as slick as she thought. "Why would it be about the video?" she asked without the slightest hint of conviction.

"Come on, Grace. You haven't been able to talk to me for the last two days. It's not hard to put the pieces together." Karen got up from her desk and started making her way over to the redhead, slowly, like she was going to startle Grace if she moved too fast, even though Grace had her eyes on her the second she heard the chair slide against the hardwood. "So I did some things a million years ago. So what? Why does that have to change anything now?" She could hear her boss' breath hitch when she slowed to a stop beside her, and she furrowed her brow. God, what she'd give to get a peek inside that head right now. Just to see what she was battling against. She sighed and tried to take a softer approach. "Honey, just...please don't shut me out like this. I can't stand it. Can't we just forget about it?"

"Karen, I don't think you understand…" Grace started, trailing off with no resolution.

"So then help me understand. Gracie…" Karen reached out to rest her hand on the redhead's shoulder, feeling the knife pierce through her skin as she fully processed how Grace responded to her touch. It couldn't be, could it? Would she really be that obvious about it?

Did she really just _flinch?_

"Look, I've got to go," Grace mumbled as she raced around the office for her coat and purse like she couldn't get out of the office fast enough. "I'm running late."

"For what?" Karen asked. She knew she wasn't on top of goings on at Grace Adler Designs like she probably should be, but she didn't remember seeing anything scribbled on Grace's calendar for the day.

"For...not...being here?" At least it wasn't a lie. Maybe she couldn't think of one. Maybe she could and it just wasn't convincing. But at least the words that came out of her mouth, as fumbled as they sounded, were the truth. She took a look back at a wide-eyed and confused Karen before rushing out the door, leaving the dark haired woman to try to figure out just when Grace Adler had become such a goddamn prude all of a sudden. It wasn't like Karen was _that_ bad of an influence. It wasn't like that part of Karen would rub off on Grace (although, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if it did). And it wasn't like the video was all that shocking.

Her clothes had been on the entire time, for Christ's sake. What was the big deal?

Well. If Grace was going to leave work, then Karen was going to leave work, too. Because god only knew what would happen when Grace came back. _If_ Grace came back. And she didn't want to find out.

When Karen got home, she checked to make sure Stan wasn't there yet before racing upstairs. She went into her closet, grabbed the box that Grace had given her the other day, and sat down to sift through the tapes. Honestly, she was pushing it by keeping the box in the manse. Sure, Stan never stepped foot inside her closet, there was absolutely no reason for him to ever do that, but you never know; one day, she might come home from the office to find him holding this younger, more reckless version of his wife in his hands and start throwing around questions she knew he wouldn't want the answers to. And what the hell would she do then? What would happen to her if he decided that he just couldn't live down Karen's past? What would happen if he decided that this was the dealbreaker?

Even worse, what if it turned him on? It wasn't like their sex life had ever been great, but Karen had taken a strange solace in the fact that he hasn't seemed interested lately. Because if he didn't seem interested, she didn't have to be, either; she could set her sights on someone that actually did something for her, someone like the redhead in her office that was awkwardly avoiding her at the moment. She shuddered to think what it would mean if Stan decided he liked this newfound side of her. He wasn't the one she wanted to impress.

She didn't stop to think what it meant that Grace was that person.

Karen sighed as she picked up each of the tapes, absently counting them as she wallowed in her situation. God, she should just destroy them; they've already done enough damage as it is. And it wasn't like she needed to hold on to them. She knew what she did. That would be with her for the rest of her days. She didn't need proof. She needed to do away with them, just burn every last one of these _(forty-seven...forty-eight…)_ forty-nine videos and be done with it once and for all.

Wait.

Forty-nine?

Didn't Carl tell her there were fifty? Didn't Grace tell her she found every single copy?

Did she flub the count just now?

Karen went through each video one more time, carefully, her younger self staring back at her time and time again as she ticked the numbers off in her mind. She was sure she had made a mistake; if Grace said there were fifty copies in this box, then there were fifty copies in this box. But as she got closer and closer to the bottom of the pile, her heart started to sink to her stomach. Forty-nine. Grace gave her forty-nine copies of _Next to Godliness_. Which meant that there was still one out there, somewhere, god knows where. Maybe Carl kept one for himself. Lord. It would be just like that slimeball to dangle this over her head, letting her know how easy it could be to unleash another wave of her past onto the city. Or maybe Grace miscounted when she went on her porn tour of Manhattan, thinking she had managed to grab all of them when she accidentally left a copy on some disgusting shelf for anyone to take home with them. She couldn't tell which was the better of two terrible options.

It freaked her out just thinking about it.

Karen took a breath and slid the box back in its hiding place in the closet before she got up from her seat. She ventured downstairs to make herself a drink and calm her nerves. It was just her luck that this couldn't be tied up neatly. But one lousy copy available for millions of New Yorkers...what were the chances of it falling into the hands of anyone that mattered? You have nearly all of them, Karen. Take a little victory in that. Your secret's still relatively safe.

For now.

She put her glass to her lips and let her martini start to drown her doubts. And she hoped that whoever actually had the last copy of her video would have the decency to be kind to her.

* * *

Why did men always have to ruin _everything?_

Okay, okay, it wasn't like Karen could do all of these things without someone underneath her heel, without someone to tie up, without someone to crack the whip for. But god, did these guys have to be so...whiny and pathetic? Although maybe that was the point. Maybe this was supposed to be for all the whiny, pathetic guys out there to feel special, to see themselves with the kind of woman they could only dream about breathing the same air with. But they didn't even seem like they understood what a force she was. And yeah, it's not like Grace was watching _Next to Godliness_ again for the acting skills, but could they at least just...you know...try? It took her out of it every time they opened their mouths. Why were _these_ guys the ones that got to be with her?

Did these guys even have to be guys at all?

It would be so much easier to lose herself in all of this if there was at least one woman welcoming love bites to her neck and begging for the knot to be tied a little tighter, or being willingly stripped of her clothes and of her control until there was nothing left but her skin on her bones and a gasp on her lips. It may have happened twenty years ago, but you couldn't tell Grace that there weren't videos like that floating around back then, no matter how cheesy, no matter how obvious it was that they were made for straight men. After all, wasn't this supposed to be the land where nothing was off limits? What's a girl gotta do to see her assistant dominate another woman?

What's a girl gotta do to make sure _she's_ the other woman?

God. Cut it out, Grace. This is exactly why you couldn't stay in the office today. This is why you wanted to take the afternoon to collect yourself, get out of your head, make these images go away. So why the _fuck_ are you watching this video again?

She couldn't help it, even though god knew she wanted to. She raced back to her apartment thinking she was safe for the rest of the day, and to be fair, she held out as long as she could. Eventually, she saw the way the sun was setting through the window and sighed with relief. And then she saw Karen's smirk shining up at her from the video box on her end table, never finding a deep dark corner for it to live (never really making an effort to find one). And then she found herself bargaining with her own mind, trying to rationalize what she knew was about to happen regardless of her intentions. Because maybe if she watched it again, she would be desensitized to it. Maybe if she watched it again, and she kept telling herself that it was just Karen—just the woman who fucks up your fax machine and then leaves for a six-hour lunch, who criticizes your wardrobe while the phone rings, who allows you to get more work done when she doesn't show up than when she strolls in at 11:30–it would break the spell. Maybe if she watched it again, she could tell herself to nitpick, zero in on all the disgusting, corny, ridiculous things and be done with this chapter of Karen's life.

She was desperate. She'd try anything if it would make it easier to be in the same room with her. So she locked the front door, knowing that Will could walk in at any minute if she didn't. She turned the volume as low as she could get it while still being able to hear, because she knew these apartments weren't exactly sound proof (god, some of the things she's heard coming out of 9B…) and she didn't want to be judged the way she judges the rest of the tenants on this floor.

Then she slid the video into the VCR.

Grace deluded herself into thinking she could survive the work day after her little movie night with Will. After all, it wasn't like Karen ever showed that side around her. It wasn't like Karen was going to show up to work in a skin tight maid's uniform and a whip. It wasn't like Karen was going to show up to work naked under her fur coat (although Grace wouldn't put _that_ one past her...not that she was waiting for that day to come...). For all she knew, Karen would be asleep at her desk until lunch anyway, so what was the big deal? But then the dark haired woman made her entrance, and all Grace could see—all Grace _wanted_ to see—was the woman in that video. Everything that came out of Karen's mouth had the sultriest lilt to it, so Grace stopped talking to her to keep her knees from buckling. Every time Grace glanced across the room, she would see the way Karen flipped the page of her magazine or run her finger along the rim of her martini glass, and it looked different to her now, because she knew what Karen was capable of doing with those hands now. So she looked away as quickly as she could.

She didn't think Karen noticed. But Karen did. Karen caught her. Even though Karen thought she caught her for the wrong thing.

_Can't we just forget about it?_ The question hadn't stopped ringing in her head since Karen asked it, bouncing off of her thoughts of Karen in latex and stilettos, thoughts of Karen doing things to her in latex and stilettos, thoughts of Karen slipping out of the latex and stilettos, since really, that was the only thing missing from this cinematic masterpiece. And it crushed her, because she knew what Karen was thinking. She knew that her assistant assumed Grace thought less of her now, didn't want to touch her now. Part of the redhead wanted to scream about how that was the direct opposite of what she was thinking. She wanted to touch Karen. More than that, she wanted Karen to touch her. She wanted Karen to touch all of her. She wanted Karen to slide her hands up her body and take her in her mouth. She wanted Karen to throw her down on the bed and…

_Fuck._ Stop it, Grace. Just stop it.

This was a mess. _She_ was a mess. And she couldn't help herself. If it was this bad now, maybe she should just come out with it. Maybe she should just tell Karen the truth instead of try to give her the cold shoulder for her own survival. Hell, Karen would probably be flattered...right after she poked a little fun. She always seemed like the type of woman who would bask in that kind of revelation. She seemed like she would get a kick out of knowing her boss gets turned on by the socialite with a secret, the Park Avenue beauty with a bad reputation like a gift waiting to be opened by the right person. And in the last two days, Grace had become convinced that she was the right person. So maybe she should start convincing Karen, too.

Or maybe Karen was already convinced. Maybe it really did mean something when she touched Grace. Maybe this was Grace's chance to catch up to what Karen already knew. Maybe the socialite didn't want to keep the secret to herself anymore. Maybe she was waiting for Grace to pull the ribbon off of that bad reputation and realize how brilliant it really was. It certainly seemed like it sometimes. So maybe Grace _should_ pull the ribbon off. Maybe Grace should see where it goes, if it goes beyond fulfilling whatever fantasies she had growing inside of her. If there was something deeper between them.

Would it be so bad if there was?

Let's face it, Grace. You were looking at her, you were considering her, long before _Next to Godliness_ was ever brought to your attention. She captivated you the moment you met her. She's been in your head from the get go, so what was the harm in letting yourself give in? After all, she's always had something that no one else seemed to possess.

Your trust.

Grace trusted Karen. That's what it all came down to. Because anybody could turn her head if they were doing half of the things Karen was doing in that video. Out of curiosity, out of shock, out of whatever. It wasn't that hard. But to be able to turn her head and make her want Karen to do those things to her took a hell of a lot of trust. Trust that she didn't fully realize she had until Karen's whip turned her head. Trust that she couldn't remember ever having with any of her boyfriends. Trust that felt good. Trust that she wanted to explore every single inch of. Trust that she wished would go on forever. So why _couldn't_ it go on forever? Why couldn't she speak up? Why couldn't she ask Karen to take her by the hand and-

She heard her front door thud between the door jamb and nearly jumped out of her skin. She hit pause on the VCR, watching as the screen froze on the smirk that had wormed its way into her mind for the last two days, hoping whoever was trying to get in couldn't hear the godawful porno music that had been spilling through her speakers. And over the pounding of her heart, she heard a voice call out to her.

"Grace?"

Will. Of course it was Will. Come on, Grace. You knew this was going to happen eventually.

"I thought I heard you come home a little while ago, why is the door locked?"

_You mean besides the fact that I'm lusting after my assistant in here?_ she thought. Grace stared at the door, silent, frozen, refusing to give herself away. He would leave soon enough. But it wasn't like he was going to stop trying right away.

A knock on the door. "Grace? Are you in there?"

_God,_ can't he take a hint?

A few short knocks. And then a longer string of silence. Part of her was tempted to call out to him even though she knew it would blow her cover. But the sensible part of her got up from her seat as quietly as she could and tiptoed to the door, leaning in to the peephole to see if the coast was clear.

It was.

Good.

But goddammit, that was a little too close. This has got to _stop._ And it has to stop now.

Grace sighed and tried to shake everything out of her before ripping the video out of the VCR and putting it back in the box. She didn't know who she was kidding, there was no place in this dump to hide it, nowhere she could shove it into the darkness and forget about it. So she slid it back on the same end table, this time covering it up with the copy of today's _New York Times_ she stole from Will's apartment this morning (it was better than nothing). And she resolved to get her fucking act together.

It's only been two days. It was a hard, deep spiral, but it was only a two-day spiral. She could still pull herself together after two days. She could get this out of her system, stop being so jumpy at work, relax when Karen touches her, speak without her voice giving her away. She could totally do it. She could.

She had to.


	3. Baby, I'm All Hers

"_**She makes me wanna touch myself  
**__**Dear god, I'm going straight to hell  
**__**I can't take it anymore  
**__**She's mine, and baby, I'm all hers  
**__**I've got a sick situation  
**__**I don't care, 'cause I'm in love  
**__**Won't you be my girl?"  
-Deep Dark Robot, "Won't You Be My Girl?"  
**_

This was torture, plain and simple. And she couldn't find a way out, at least not one she could slide through undetected. Because if she tried to leave, there would be questions. If there were questions, she would have to fumble for a lie. If she fumbled for a lie, they would be persistent. If they were persistent, she would cave and give it up. And she could _not_ give it up in front of everybody. So Grace sat there at the dining table, eyes on her hands and hands in her lap, while Will and Jack and Karen were seated around her acting like the world hadn't just dramatically changed over the last three days.

It was just supposed to be dinner with Will and Jack. She could handle dinner with Will and Jack. With _only_ Will and Jack. But she should have known Jack would inadvertently fuck it all up and bring his best friend along with him unannounced.

She should have known that Karen would sidle up next to her the whole time like she wanted to mess with Grace's head.

Although, to be fair, Karen _did_ technically give her an out. Her surprised gaze had met Karen's uncertain one as the dark haired woman trailed Jack through the front door, and she had felt herself tense up. Maybe Karen had felt it, too. Because as soon as she was within earshot, Karen had murmured softly, "I can go if you don't want me here."

She hadn't been able to keep her eyes on her assistant for too long, let her gaze shift to the boys, making sure they were occupied with their own conversation while she tried to keep her head together. She had known that telling Karen to leave would cause suspicion, trigger those questions she didn't want to answer. She had known that it would probably make things worse. So she had taken a breath and murmured back, "Why wouldn't I want you here?"

Karen had looked at her like she wasn't convinced. "Really? You don't wanna comb over the last few days and come back with an answer?"

No. She couldn't do this again now. Not when they were around other people. Not when it would be impossible to keep a poker face with all of their eyes on her. "I told you yesterday that we're fine," she had said, barely a whisper, knowing Karen would be able to see right through it.

The dark haired woman had sighed. "Whatever you say, honey. Don't worry. I'll be on my best behavior." She had started to make her way towards the boys before she stopped and turned to Grace, carrying a look in her eyes that the redhead couldn't place (Sadness? Frustration? Both?). "Besides...I left my whip at the manse." She had plastered on a smile, bouncing her way to Jack, pretending like nothing happened between them.

And that was all it had taken to send Grace over the edge.

Now, the walls were closing in. Now, she could barely eat the food on her plate, and she knew that was a red flag to everyone at this table. Now, she was trapped between her secret and the woman who lived in it. Now, she hoped to god no one could see her squirm in her seat as subtly as she possibly could, trying to control the growing pulse between her legs over every single thing Karen did. Literally every single thing. Starting with the way she tugged on Jack's sweater vest every time she wanted his attention, because Grace wanted to feel what it was like to be wanted in such a playful way. Leading to the way she let out the lowest "Mmmm" her voice could manage after every few sips of gin, because Grace wanted to know what else she saved that sound for. Circling around the way she laughed at the most inane things being thrown around that dining table, because _god,_ Grace felt it in every single inch of her being. Landing in the way she chose to sit next to Grace during dinner, the way her gardenia perfume went to Grace's head, the way she had the audacity to lean back in her chair and drape her arm over Grace's like it was nothing when it was clearly everything.

It was overwhelming; if she didn't do something soon, she would crumble from the weight of it all. And maybe she was paranoid, but Grace couldn't help thinking that Karen knew exactly what she was doing. And that the dark haired woman was enjoying it.

Grace just needed some time to herself. That's all. She just needed someone to open a door and give her an excuse. Then she could collect herself. She could figure out how to stop squirming. She could take a few deep breaths and recalibrate her focus. She could come back refreshed. She could make it through dessert. She could actually _eat_ dessert. She could see Jack and Karen off into the night. She could go back to her own apartment. She could take pride in the fact that she finished off the evening like a normal person.

Maybe if she got through this, she could finally start to put all of this _Next to Godliness_ nonsense behind her.

Maybe it was all wishful thinking.

But she had to try.

"Wilma! Where's my refill?" Grace jumped as Karen slammed her hand against the dining table. God, even her impatience was hot. Was it always this hot?

Will muttered his response. "Karen, you drank the last of the gin."

There you go, Grace. There's your open door. So run through it already.

"I have some across the hall," she said a little too loudly, a little too enthusiastically. "Why don't I go get it?" She clamored out of her seat and rushed to 9A before she could get an answer. She shut her apartment door behind her and grabbed the half-full bottle of gin from her kitchen before steadying herself on the counter. She furrowed her brow helplessly as she felt the throbbing between her legs becoming impossible to ignore, and couldn't believe she was in this deep. She needed to get herself together. She needed to take care of it. But she knew there was only one way to do that.

No. She couldn't.

Could she?

_No._ Come on. How was she ever going to be able to look at Karen again if she did?

But she had to do something.

But not this.

But it wasn't like she was going to tell anybody. Really, who was going to know?

"Oh, _fuck_ it," she sighed as she made up her mind and headed into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her, turning her back towards the mirror above the sink because there was no way in hell she was going to catch a glimpse of herself at a time like this. Her fingers brushed against the button of her jeans as she hesitated for a moment, knowing she was about to cross a line, more concerned about what would happen to her if she didn't. She undid her jeans and slowly slid her hand underneath her panties. She spread her legs a little wider as she leaned against the sink, her fingers sliding along her clit and making her breath hitch as she realized just how wet she had become during the dinner party from hell. She wasn't sure how embarrassed she should be (or even if she should be embarrassed at all), but those thoughts were quickly shoved out of her mind by the image of a whip-toting Karen and the sensation of her own touch swirling around her clit. And as she threw her head back and started to moan for herself, for the vision of Karen dancing in her head, she couldn't believe she held out this long.

She deserved a goddamn medal.

She wouldn't need much; Grace could already start to feel it in her core. She swore she could still smell Karen's gardenia perfume, and it made it so easy for her to imagine Karen's touch where her touch was, to imagine Karen's fingers dancing wildly along her clit, letting the pressure rise and fall in waves; she swore she could hear Karen's satisfied sighs as her own moans became more drawn out, and it made everything feel so incredibly intense. She wanted to ride this high forever, even though she knew perfectly well the high would melt her until there was nothing left.

But somehow, she knew that Karen would find a way to build her back up just so she could melt her down all over again. And in this moment, she knew she would welcome that cycle with open arms.

Grace felt the surge of her orgasm in her core and couldn't contain her cries of ecstasy as she made herself come. But she didn't care. Everyone else was across the hall. No one else knew about this release. And god, what a release it was. It made her feel brilliant. It made her feel like she had a clean slate. It made her feel like she could actually get through this dinner after all. It made her feel like-

"Grace?"

Shit.

The redhead gasped at the sound, wide-eyed and immediately pulling her hand out of her jeans like she had just been caught. Because _hadn't_ she just been caught? No. No no no. This wasn't real. This was in her head, it was all still in her head. It had to be. Because if it really was on the other side of the door, if _she_ really was on the other side of the door, the jig was up. She'd have to explain herself to the one person she dreaded explaining herself to the most. Grace stayed silent, waiting for the voice again. The quiet started to lull her into relief that maybe she had just pictured the dark haired woman in her head so vividly that she was starting to make herself hear things. But then...

"Honey? Are you okay?"

_Shit._ She was outside. She was real. _This_ was real.

This was a disaster.

"Uh...just give me a second?" she called out, her voice so shaky it nearly collapsed under the weight of her words as she fumbled to zip up her jeans. Maybe Karen didn't hear her. Maybe Karen came in after. Maybe she could get away with it. Flush the toilet she didn't use, wash her hands, make it sound good. There was still a chance. Grace dried her hands on a towel as she looked at herself in the mirror. She looked way too frazzled, and she knew it. Her breath was still heavy, the pink that overtook her cheeks hadn't faded away. But she couldn't stay in here too much longer without Karen asking her what the holdup was. So she took one last fortifying breath, closed her eyes as she let it out, hoped for the best.

She headed out into her living room, legs like jelly, coming face to face with the woman who was slowly destroying her inhibitions.

And she took a breath.

* * *

It shouldn't take this long to grab a bottle of gin from across the hall. Karen should have filled her glass by now. Hell, Karen should have _refilled_ her glass by now. But instead, she was drumming her fingers along the dining table impatiently, trying her best to endure whatever it was Will and Jack were talking about at the moment (Karen tuned out the second Grace left), until it became too much; Grace may have changed her opinion of her, but depriving her like this was bordering on cruel and unusual, no matter what the redhead's feelings about her were. Karen sighed loud enough to derail the boys' conversation and felt their eyes turn on her. "Good lord, what is taking her so long?" she muttered, not realizing she said it out loud until she heard Will answer her.

"Would you relax? She's trying to find the gin _for you,_ so let her do it."

"Wilma, how hard is it to find a bottle in a shoebox?" Karen asked, frustrated as she got up from her seat and smoothed out her skirt. "I'm going over there."

"Oooh, Karen's gonna crack the whip!" Jack gleefully exclaimed in his singsong tone.

It was so perfect, the way he unknowingly stumbled upon it, she couldn't contain her laugh. There was no way he knew; she hadn't told him, and if Grace had let it slip, she knew he would have been asking questions the second he saw her. But Will...she could see Will's fleeting smirk out of the corner of her eye, and she just knew. Of course Grace told him. Or maybe Grace showed him. She wasn't surprised; nothing ever really stays private between those two. She just wished she knew what he thought of her now (not that she was ever going to act like she cared), if he harbored the same judgment her boss apparently did.

She just wanted answers.

"Oh, honey…" she started, trying to mask the uncertainty in her bones, smirking and resting her hand on Jack's shoulder, "you have no idea." And she made her way across the hall.

Grace's door was unlocked and Karen let herself in, the apartment devoid of the redhead's presence at first glance (she didn't really run away _again,_ did she? When was this game going to stop?). But then she saw the gin sitting on the kitchen counter, saw the bathroom door closed, and realized that Grace hadn't quite made the escape she thought she did. She was about to call out to her boss when her attention was pulled to the front page of the _New York Times_ on the end table that was clearly hiding something. But from who? Grace lived alone; it wasn't like she needed to keep things from herself. Unless she was ashamed by whatever was living underneath the newspaper. Which made Karen want to peek under the _Times_ that much more. She was never one to blast open another person's secrets; everyone knew she had her share of them, and she knew that sometimes you just needed to keep them in a dark, dark place where no light can get through, for your own sanity. But this was Grace. What the hell kind of secrets could honestly live inside her?

Karen watched the bathroom door for a moment to be sure Grace wasn't coming out anytime soon. And after a moment, she tiptoed her way to the end table, took a breath, and gently slid the newspaper off of whatever it was her boss was trying to hide.

Soon enough, her younger self was smiling up at her.

Oh. That's it? _Grace_ had the missing copy of _Next to Godliness?_

Thank god. Who knows what would have happened if it had been in someone else's possession. She didn't even want to think about it. At least she trusted Grace. At least she knew Grace would keep it safe.

But if Grace was hiding it like this, like she was ashamed of it, it kind of made it look like she…

Oh.

_Oh._

Okay. _Now_ Karen was starting to get it. _Now_ it was starting to make sense. She smirked to herself, letting out a short, breathless laugh. She couldn't believe it. Little Gracie Adler, getting turned on by a maid with a whip. But not just any maid with a whip. One that she had to see every day at work, one that she couldn't help checking out every once in a while, one that didn't make it any easier by touching her all the time (god, _that's_ why she flinched yesterday, wasn't it?). So, what...Grace thought she was being cute by bringing this home to show Will, and she ended up getting more out of it than she bargained for? Was that it? Karen didn't even care that Will saw her like that; let it fuel as many jabs and quips as his heart desired. She was just relieved that Grace didn't hate her for her past. And if she was being completely honest with herself, she was a little thrilled that she could turn Grace on _that_ much. If she was being completely honest with herself, it turned _her_ on to know that she could turn Grace on.

If she was being completely honest with herself, that was a back and forth she didn't mind being caught in.

Karen understood the benefits of keeping your walls up better than anybody. It kept you safe; it allowed you to survive. It let you move through all the ridiculous bullshit life throws at you and make it to the other side relatively unscathed. So she understood why Grace was keeping this to herself. She just wished the redhead would realize she didn't have to. Because as much as Karen loved walls, she thought boundaries were overrated. And Grace knew _that_ better than anybody. Grace knew that Karen would welcome a little praise for her performance. Grace knew that Karen would be intrigued by the way that performance affected her. Grace _had_ to know. After all this time together, she had to know that Karen wouldn't judge (okay, maybe one little joke, but really, that was to be expected). After all the times they've studied each other, after all the times they've touched each other, she had to know that Karen would be fully willing to explore this with her.

So Grace discovered a kink she didn't know what to do with. That was fine. Because Karen knew what to do with it. Karen was totally into it. Karen could show her the light. Karen _wanted_ to show her the light. If only Grace would let her.

But it sounded like Grace was starting to see the light all by herself.

Karen heard an unmistakable moan coming from the bathroom, and her jaw dropped. Well. Now she knew why Grace had been so fidgety at dinner. She probably shouldn't have gotten so close to her, probably shouldn't have made sure that she was the one sitting next to her at the table, but god...after three days of cold shoulders and confusion, she just missed Grace. She missed the way they used to be, and she hated that it seemed like so long ago that they even _were_ the way they used to be. Sure, maybe they had never gotten anywhere back then (look at her, thinking of something like last week, last month, as "back then"), but it was a hell of a lot better than nothing.

Realizing what Grace was doing behind the door, though, changed things. It made where they used to be pale in comparison to where they could go, if they would just allow themselves to go there. Maybe it would be a disaster. But maybe it would be the most brilliant thing they had ever known. She wanted Grace, for reasons she still didn't quite understand. But desire overshadowed reason. Desire overshadowed a lot of things. And now, she knew Grace wanted her, too (or, at the very least, this imperious latex version of her, and that wasn't the worst thing in the world, either). So why couldn't they admit it to each other and act on the fantasy already?

Karen heard Grace cry out one final time and knew she had to act. Was it better or worse if she didn't announce her presence? Should she leave, act like she didn't know about this little detour? Should she just rip the band-aid off and get it over with, announce herself, get the gin and get out of there? She could always pretend like she came in after Grace's moment alone with herself (Orgasm? What orgasm? She didn't hear any orgasm…). Her poker face always _had_ been better than her boss'. She could make it work. So she slid the newspaper back over the video and took a breath.

"Grace?" she called out.

Silence. Was the redhead really trying to make like she wasn't here?

"Honey?" she tried again. "Are you okay?"

She heard movement from behind the door. "Uh...just give me a second?" Grace asked. Karen heard the toilet flush and had to hand it to Grace for at least trying to make it sound like she wasn't just touching herself in there. Maybe they could both pull this off, make it seem like it was just one friend checking on another friend, no secrets being held close to their chests, no revelations in the air. They could put this one behind them, because Grace wouldn't realize they had to.

Then again...that didn't sound like much fun, did it?

She saw her boss stumble through the bathroom door with wide eyes and blush-tinged cheeks, and it made her want to play. "What are you doing here?" Grace asked breathlessly.

Karen tried to swallow her smirk; maybe the redhead should have given herself a few more moments to be a little more convincing when she pretending like nothing was happening behind that door. "I'm here for the gin," she said. "You were gone so long, _someone_ had to come get you. Come on, Mama's dry."

Grace's body jerked slightly with the hitch of her breath, and Karen failed to keep her feeling of accomplishment at bay; she just had a feeling that calling herself Mama would set something off in her boss. She watched Grace point to the kitchen counter and mumble "It's over there," unable to look Karen directly in the eye.

The dark haired woman started making her way to the counter and couldn't help herself when she got within inches of the redhead. "Are you sure you're okay, honey?" she asked. "You look a little flushed." She drew her finger along Grace's cheek and lingered before she passed by her to get to the bottle, reveling in the way Grace's eyes followed every motion, the way Grace's lips were fumbling for a response.

"Yeah, mm-hmm, I'm fine," Grace finally said, a little too rushed. And if Karen didn't know any better, she could have sworn the redhead followed it up with a whispered, "Oh my _god"_ like she couldn't believe she had been caught. Like she was almost glad she had been caught. Like there was a smile hidden in her words.

And Karen had to admit, it sounded amazing.

She grabbed the bottle of gin by its neck and took a look at the label before furrowing her brow. "Oh, good lord, Grace...what'd ya go and get the cheap stuff for?" she complained.

"What's the problem? It gets the job done, doesn't it?"

Just like that video gets the job done? When Karen could get the job done so much better?

Karen turned to face Grace, who was looking like she could bolt at any minute but was rooted to the ground at the same time. The redhead's eyes were glued to her, and now that she knew that they weren't filled with the judgment she once thought they were, the feeling set her on fire. She wanted to rattle her. She wanted to leave her with something to think about. She slowly made her way back to Grace, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor, and let a sly smirk come to play across her face. "But honey…" she started, her lips coming to within an inch of Grace's. "Just because it gets the job done, it doesn't mean it's as satisfying as the real thing."

She watched the journey in Grace's eyes as her boss started to realize that that could be said about more than just the gin. And in that moment, she didn't need the bottom shelf booze she was clutching in her hand to intoxicate her. "Uh…" Grace stammered softly, trying to say something, anything, and coming up empty handed for a few moments. "That's a good point," she managed. "That's a very good point." And then she did something that took the dark haired woman by surprise.

She reached out and let her fingers brush against Karen's collarbone before her hand landed on her assistant's shoulder.

Grace hadn't touched Karen in three days. Grace hadn't let Karen touch _her_ in three days. Karen wasn't sure what sparked this change of heart, this small act of boldness. But as long as it kept happening, she wasn't going to question it.

Karen let her free hand fly up to her shoulder to cover the redhead's. Grace didn't flinch this time. She didn't make a move to brush Karen off. They stayed that way for a moment, silent, eyes locked, each daring the other to break, both of them standing firm. Maybe Grace _did_ realize that Karen heard her. Maybe she realized that Karen wasn't turned off by it. Maybe she wanted to do something about it. But maybe she just didn't know what that something was yet. Which is maybe why she (reluctantly? She sounded so reluctant to Karen) murmured, "The guys are probably wondering what's taking us so long."

Devil. The guys. As much as Karen loved them, she could kill them for destroying the moment right now. She let out her breath, gave Grace's hand a little squeeze before she let it go. "Yeah," she sighed. "I guess you're right." She gestured towards the front door. "Lead the way, honey."

By the time they got back to 9C, Karen's mind couldn't stop racing. God, they had been so close. They had been right on the edge. It wouldn't have taken much to jump. And Grace sure as hell looked ready to jump back there. If they could only find a moment to steal away, a moment that was just theirs, where no one would ask where they were and they wouldn't have to think about anything but each other. If they could only find a moment where they could feel free to go all in. If they could only…

Karen sipped at her cheap gin to hide the laugh that spilled from her lips when the lightbulb went off in her head. Suddenly, all of the puzzle pieces seemed to fit together. Because there was absolutely a way they could have their moment. There was a way Karen could show Grace the light. There was a way they could play, a way they could explore, a way they could satisfy and soothe those lingering thoughts crashing around inside of them. And the plan quickly started taking shape in Karen's head. It wouldn't take a lot of effort to prepare; she could easily throw it all together while the spark and the touch and the reluctance to go back to the boys were still alive and shining brightly.

It had been twenty years since she last stepped into the role. But she would take it from the shelf and dust it off in a heartbeat for Grace.

To be honest, she knew it would make her feel alive again, too. But that was an added bonus.

She looked over at Grace sitting next to her and gave her boss a small smile, felt it grow wider as Grace started to return it. There was always the possibility that this plan could blow up in her face. There was always the possibility that Grace would still deny the feelings that were obviously living inside of her. But Karen knew that wasn't going to stop her. She had to try. She was _going_ to try.

She knew exactly what she had to do.


	4. Don't Waste My Love

"_**I'm gonna lay her down, stroke her hair  
**__**Concentrate everywhere  
**__**Let's make out, don't waste my love  
**__**Come on baby, you're making me crazy  
**__**We get lost in translation  
**__**I don't care, 'cause I'm in love  
**__**Won't you be my girl?"  
-Deep Dark Robot, "Won't You Be My Girl?"  
**_

Grace knew something was up with Karen; she just couldn't tell you what. But it was there in her assistant's eyes, in the way she started fidgeting at her desk when she thought Grace wasn't looking, in the way she kept looking at the clock like she had somewhere she needed to be. It completely derailed Grace's work, trying to figure it out. The best she could guess, this was about last night. Because there was no way Karen didn't know what she was doing in her bathroom last night. Karen may not have known the reasons behind it, but she knew it happened. She had to. The way she acted when she came to get Grace, the way her voice dropped as it wrapped around her smirk...the redhead was so certain that the dark haired woman actually wanted the same things she did. She was so certain that it could be more than just the fantasy living in her head. She didn't expect Karen to seem like she was harboring regrets about it all the morning (well...mid-afternoon) after.

She didn't expect to be the one that could actually scare Karen Walker off. But barely two hours after her assistant walked into the office, she watched as Karen sighed and pushed her chair away from her desk. "Well, that's lunch," the dark haired woman announced a little too brightly as she shrugged into her coat. "I need to take care of some things, honey, I'll see you around." And before Grace could say anything, she was gone.

Karen didn't come back to the office. Normally, it wouldn't have been a red flag. But after everything that had gone down over the last few days, Grace couldn't help but think that this was Karen taking her turn to run away. And she didn't know what to do with the fact that Karen had. It was crazy, she knew. But after how close they had gotten last night, she was beginning to let herself believe that they were on the same page. She was beginning to let herself believe that it was okay to give in.

She didn't think that Karen would be the one to object. But she couldn't figure out what else her assistant's behavior meant. And she trudged through the rest of the work day with that nagging sense of defeat hanging over her head.

When she went home in the evening, Grace knew she didn't want to see anyone, didn't want to do anything; as soon as the delivery guy brought her chicken lo mein, she changed into pajama pants and the Columbia t-shirt she stole from Will before she moved and let herself drop into the one chair she had in the apartment so she could drown her sorrows in well-priced Chinese takeout. God, if she had just let it go when the repair guy recognized Karen, just smiled and nodded and pretended like she knew what he was talking about, she wouldn't be in this mess. Karen would have been none the wiser that her dirty little secret got out. Grace wouldn't have to deal with the fact that Karen would not stop turning her on. They would still have the friendship they had always known, the one that always came with a few perks. Those few perks would have been enough to sustain her for god knew how long. Everything would have been fine.

Now, once the sun had long disappeared and the carton of lo mein was empty, she didn't know what else to do but try to turn her mind off by turning in for the night.

Grace was steps away from her bed when she was stopped in her tracks by a knock on the door. She stared at the entryway, furrowing her brow. Will would have just walked in, and she wasn't expecting anyone else so late at night. So maybe whoever was on the other side just had the wrong apartment. She waited in silence for a moment, to see if her unexpected visitor would take the hint.

Another knock on the door. "Housekeeping," chirped the voice on the other side.

Oh. _No._ This was a joke, right? She couldn't possibly know everything. This couldn't possibly be happening. There was no possible way. Grace had to be hearing things. Her mind had to be acting up again, going places that were going to be hard to come back from. She should just go to bed before it gets worse.

Then again...

"Karen?" Grace called out as she rushed to the door. She took a breath before she opened it to reveal her assistant, coat slung over her arm, donning a latex maid's uniform and a smirk against the bright lights of the hallway.

The redhead felt her heart racing to break free from her chest. Holy shit. This wasn't a joke. Karen figured it out. She knew everything.

This was happening.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Grace exclaimed in a hushed voice as she grabbed Karen by the arm and pulled her inside the apartment. "Are you nuts? Someone could see you!" God, thinking of Will walking out of 9C only to be greeted by Karen looking like _this_ was unbearable. But _god,_ the way Karen looked right now...Grace knew she was about to give herself up to whatever the dark haired woman had in store, and once the initial shock of finding her fantasy waiting for her at her door wore off, she couldn't believe how much she craved it. "Did...is that from…?" She couldn't finish her thought, why couldn't she finish a simple sentence?

Karen looked down at her outfit and let out a short, fierce laugh. "Please, it's not like I kept souvenirs from the set. Come on. Where do you think I went today when I left for lunch?" Oh god, she planned this. She went out of her way to make sure she had what she needed. The thought of Karen waltzing into one of those stores in Chanel and sunglasses (did she even need sunglasses to hide her face? What made Grace think Karen would be embarrassed about all of this?) threw her into overdrive. Because it was for _her._ She was doing this for Grace. She _wanted_ to do this for Grace.

It overwhelmed every bit of her being to see how far Karen would go for her.

The look in her assistant's eye was hell-bent on scorching her to the bone. "By the way, honey…" Karen murmured, her voice sinking with each syllable, her heels clicking against the hardwood like some kind of diabolical metronome keeping the waves of nerves in Grace's core in perfect rhythm. "Didn't anyone ever tell you it's not nice to keep secrets?" Without taking her eyes off of her boss, Karen tossed her coat to the side, revealing her own little secret that was kept clutched in her hand underneath it.

It wasn't as long as the one in the video. But just the sight of Karen's hold on that whip was certainly getting the job done all the same.

The redhead couldn't move. "What...what are you talking about?" she fumbled to buy herself some time, her voice giving out. She was relieved that it was just her voice giving out and not her legs. Honestly, they were weak enough for the smallest thing to knock her over; how she was still standing at this point, she didn't understand.

"I thought I had you _all_ figured out," Karen teased, drawing out her words in all the right places. "But surprise, surprise, you're not as vanilla as I thought you were." Without taking her eyes off of Grace, she reached over to the end table next to them and pushed the newspaper aside with her free hand, picking up the copy of _Next to Godliness_ that set all of this into motion. "If I had known this is what did it for you," she said, dangling the tape in front of her boss' gaze, "I would have told you about it a long time ago."

Karen was having way too much fun with this; she absolutely glowed with it. The shine made Grace let out a little gasp the second she could feel Karen's breath on her skin. "Karen…" she managed, "I'm sorry I…"

"Bup-bup-bup! Are you _trying_ to kill the mood?" She tossed the video back onto the end table, the crash of the tape making Grace jump slightly as the redhead felt it in her core. "Apologizing for knowing what you want doesn't work for me, Grace. You really should learn how to own it." She drew her finger along Grace's arm, leaving a wave of goosebumps in her wake. "This _is_ what you want, isn't it?"

Grace couldn't speak, felt the way her words were lodged in her throat. Of course this was what she wanted. Fuck, this was what she _needed._ After days of denying herself and letting that desire grow and grow until it was uncontrollable, of watching Karen, of fantasizing over her, of the images running wild in her head of all the things she wanted Karen to do to her, she knew she was going to go mad if she didn't get it. It made her weak; it stole her voice. And all she could do was nod.

"What was that?" Karen teased, cupping her hand around her ear. "I didn't hear you."

Jesus. If the dark haired woman kept this up, the redhead would never be able to recover; it was bad enough that she kept trying to form the words and failing. Grace finally managed a whispered "Y-yes..." and hoped it was enough for Karen to touch her again. She cleared her throat, started to regain her voice a bit, gave her one more hushed "Yes" for good measure. But Karen started stroking the whip in her hands and smirked, sending shivers down Grace's spine.

"Honey, if you're not going to answer me, I'm just gonna have to go…" Her smirk grew wider as she took one step backwards, and then another. Grace knew exactly what Karen was doing, and it was working; she was playing right into her assistant's hand. It was all so deliciously excruciating. And she was about to explode.

"Karen, I want this!" she exclaimed, urgency dripping from her words. Wide-eyed, she slowly took a couple steps closer to Karen, closing the gap between them. "I want this," she said again, softly, firmly, waiting for a response.

Karen stood still for what felt like an eternity.

And then…

"Now _that's_ what I like to hear." She plunged her fingers through Grace's wildfire curls, pulling her boss in for a piercing kiss that nearly split the redhead in two.

Grace's moan of surprise quickly turned into one of overwhelming pleasure as she felt Karen's tongue sweep along her own. She had thought about this so many times in the last few days that she was certain it wouldn't catch her off guard, certain it wouldn't live up to the way she had built it in her head. But good _god,_ this was unlike anything she could have possibly imagined. The sheer force of Karen's tongue made her stumble backwards, again and again, until she started to realize it was more than just the force of the kiss; Karen was inching her closer and closer to the corner of her studio she called her bedroom. She felt the dark haired woman rest her hand on her hip (and the whip, holy shit, she could feel the whip against her body), guiding her to their twisted destiny.

Karen pulled away from her boss' kiss and let the blinding fire in her eyes blaze on. "Get on the bed," she commanded, and Grace couldn't believe how it could sound so playful and so unyielding at the same time. It made her want to obey, but it rooted her to the ground. And she watched as Karen tilted her head and studied her, the anticipation of her assistant's next move coursing through her body.

Karen placed her hand on Grace's shoulder, willing her to move until the back of her knees hit the mattress. "Get. On. The bed," she said again as she gave her boss a nudge.

And there was no way Grace could deny her.

The redhead lay on the mattress, propped up on her elbows as she watched the dark haired woman toss the whip onto the bed and slide her hands up the worn flannel of her pajama pants. "Good lord, this outfit," Karen muttered as she furrowed her brow. "You could've at least dressed for the occasion."

Grace's eyes grew a little wider. That critique was such a part of their normal routine that it surprised her in the midst of all of this uncharted territory. And she couldn't believe how wild it sounded in this context. _How_ was this turning her on right now? "Karen, I didn't know there was going to _be_ an occasion." Her breath hitched when she felt Karen's fingers hook themselves into the elastic waistband of her pants.

"Doesn't matter...you should always be prepared. You never know what might come up." Karen slid Grace's pants off of her body and discovered that Grace wasn't wearing panties. "Well, well, well," she smirked. "Good for you, honey; I guess you were prepared after all." She tossed the pants to the floor as she straddled Grace's bare hips, letting her hands slide under the redhead's t-shirt and removing it in one fell swoop. Grace could feel the way her clit started to throb over the way Karen's eyes traveled her breasts, the way the shine in them glowed a little brighter as they made their journey. It didn't even register at first that Karen was reaching over to the edge of the mattress for something.

But then she noticed what Karen was reaching for.

Grace stared at the whip in Karen's hand and started to get nervous, the reality of it sinking in now that Karen was straddling her on her bed. It was one thing to get a thrill from hearing her crack it, from seeing her wave it around and draw her tongue along the leather. But she had never done this before; was she really ready to hurt like that? She tried to open her mouth to speak when Karen interrupted her, seemingly able to read her mind.

"Oh, relax, Grace. I'm not going to use this on you unless you want me to." There was that devious grin again, the one that melted Grace on sight, the one whose heat was burning her in the most brilliant way as Karen hovered above. "It's just part of the ensemble." The dark haired woman made a move to rest the whip on Grace's nightstand as she plunged her kiss into the redhead's neck.

"Oh, _god,"_ Grace moaned at the contact. She could feel her breath start to get shorter already, felt her mind rapidly morphing into a jumbled mess, and tried her damndest to get the words out. "But you...you can still use it, right? Just for the sound of it?" she asked in between breaths. "Please?"

Grace felt the vibrations of Karen's "Mmmm" on her neck and matched the dark haired woman's pitch. She nearly cried out for Karen when she felt her pull away, only to hear the crack of the whip next to the bed, her back arching to the sound. When she relaxed back into the mattress, she saw that smug look of satisfaction on Karen's face. "You like it when I wave it around, don't you?" Karen purred into her skin. "You get off on the thrill of it. Even when it doesn't touch you." She dropped her voice to the most sinfully seductive whisper as she moved her lips to Grace's ear, her fingers dancing along her boss' curls. "But what about when _I_ touch you? Tell me what happens when _I_ touch you."

Holy shit. Was she serious? Could she hear the way Grace's voice was struggling? "It makes me…" she tried, but Karen drew her tongue along Grace's collarbone and eviscerated the thought. "It makes me wanna…" She felt Karen's mouth close around her nipple, the way-oh _god-_the way her teeth grazed against it and felt the way the sensation exploded throughout her body, and she knew it was useless to fight it. "Oh, _fuck,_ Karen…" she gasped, her hands drawn to the dark haired maid on top of her, traveling from Karen's ass to the small of her back, because _Christ,_ she needed to touch Karen, couldn't stop touching Karen if she tried, couldn't-

In an instant, Karen latched on to each of Grace's wrists, pulling them from her body and pinning them above her boss' head. Grace let out a surprised "Oh!" as her euphoric smile broke free from its cage, the sight and the feel of Karen above her bringing her so close to the edge before she really even did anything to her.

She wanted this to go on forever. But she was convinced she wasn't going to last much longer.

"Aren't _we_ feeling handsy tonight?" Karen teased as she arched her brow. "I think we have to do something about that…" She pulled herself back from the redhead and slid off the bed, stalking around the small area of Grace's apartment like a woman on a mission, and it would have made Grace melt into the mattress if she wasn't overwhelmed by the absence of Karen on top of her, feeling her assistant's weight, crumbling under her kiss. She had never felt a loss like this before, like she couldn't possibly go on without the dark haired woman's hands on her.

"_Please_ come back," she whimpered, craving Karen's spark as if it was the only thing she knew.

"Patience, honey…it'll all be worth it soon." Karen's gaze roamed the apartment until she stopped in her tracks, smiling when she found what she was looking for. She rushed out of Grace's sightline, and if she heard the redhead's plea-that long, drawn out "_Karen"_ trying to beckon her over and over again-she paid it no mind. God, that had to be deliberate. Draw this out as long as she possibly could so that by the time she got back to Grace, the release would be explosive. It was all a game. And Grace couldn't tell which one of them was winning. After what felt like an eternity, Karen returned, holding the silk scarf Will had given Grace for her birthday last year in her hand and a devious question between her teeth. "Well?" she asked, dangling the scarf in front of Grace's line of vision. "Whaddya say?"

This was it. The last few days of watching that younger version of Karen tie her subjects to the bedpost had created such a strong fantasy that she was convinced would never become reality. But here Karen was, so willing to make it come true. She wanted to give up any control she thought she had, shove it into Karen's arms and let her do whatever crossed her mind. But before she gave it up completely, she mustered the strength to murmur, "Do it."

She could see the way it surprised Karen to hear the firmness in her voice, and it made the pulse between her legs grow a little stronger. But it thrilled her even more to see how quickly the dark haired woman recovered, climbing back onto the bed as fiercely as Grace had ever seen her, straddling her boss the way Grace so desperately needed. "Careful, Gracie," she warned playfully. "Because in about ten seconds, you won't really have the power to tell me what to do, will you?" She let her gaze dart from the redhead's right arm to her left and nodded. "Up," she commanded.

Grace could swear she saw hunger in Karen's eyes when she eagerly lifted her arms for her, gasping at the way the silk felt against her wrists as Karen tied her to the headboard. God, she could not _believe_ how brilliantly electric this felt. It was one thing to watch Karen do it to other people. But as thrilling as that was, it couldn't compare to the way she bent to press her charged kiss against Grace's lips as she tightened the knot, stopping only when the redhead moaned into her mouth. Grace threw her head back as Karen's kiss started traveling down her throat to her chest. And as she felt the dark haired woman's lips spark fireworks down her torso, she couldn't help but watch the descent; she tried to lift her head as much as she could to take in the sight of Karen exploring her body, noticing the way her assistant was reaching for the feather duster tucked underneath her apron string.

"Where did you get that?" she asked breathlessly.

Karen's lips paused for a moment before she pulled them away from Grace's skin and met the redhead's gaze. "Found it on your mantle, thought it went with the vibe," she murmured with such deceptive simplicity. "I always thought Wilma was the clean freak in your marriage."

Grace didn't even care that Karen was calling Will her husband for the millionth tired time. She just wanted her to do whatever she was planning on doing with that duster. "Which is why he sneaked it into one of my boxes during the move," she sighed before she let her curiosity take over. "What are you going to do with it?"

Karen's eyes lit up with possibility. "Just trust me, honey. I'll take care of you, I promise." The anticipation was eating away at Grace, set on destroying her before anything Karen had in store for her could. It pushed every single one of her nerves to the edge.

And it made every single one of her nerves jump off the cliff when Karen started brushing the feather duster along her inner thighs.

"_Shit,_ yes," Grace cried out, feeling the way her legs were starting to quake. She lifted her body to the sensation, wanting to reach out for Karen but feeling the way her restraints intensified everything. She gave herself up to this. Karen held all the cards. And it felt pretty damn perfect.

She felt the way Karen's kiss followed the duster's path across her thighs and heard her moan growing louder and louder, waiting for her to travel to her clit, the frustration amplifying the pleasure every time Karen detoured. She couldn't take it anymore; if Grace couldn't reach down and guide her, then she had to say something. "Kar...Karen...please…" she gasped in between her moans, seeing Karen's head between her legs, feeling her tease her folds like she had all the time in the world, "I _need_ you to fuck me. I need—"

Her plea got swallowed up by her cries the second Karen's tongue swept along her clit.

"Oh, _Jesus,"_ Grace moaned, her body writhing to the twists and turns of Karen's tongue. Somewhere in the frenzy, Karen tossed the feather duster, opting to let her fingers wind through the redhead's curls before they traveled up her torso, Karen's nails running along Grace's skin and leaving a trail of electricity in their wake. Grace never thought it could be like this; she just didn't think it was an option. But she always knew something was missing with all of the guys who came before, even if she couldn't figure out what. Because none of those guys was the right person.

She'd probably laugh at the idea of Karen being the right person if it didn't feel so fucking incredible. It was insane how this had been right under her nose for a year and a half, and she didn't even do anything about it until now.

Well. Better late than never.

Grace felt Karen's tongue speed up, get a little more frantic in its movements, and knew she was about to come. She could feel the surge growing in her core, her breath becoming shorter and shorter, her moans becoming louder and louder. Karen's tongue pressed one final wave of pressure on her clit that sent her over the edge, her body taut and pulling against the restraint of the scarf as she rode out her orgasm, crying out in ecstasy.

She relaxed against the mattress, gloriously spent, catching her breath, so in awe of the dark haired woman who made her dreams come true.

Karen crawled up to meet Grace's gaze, saw the way Grace was trying to reach her lips and pulling herself just out of reach in a tease before finally bending down to brush her lips against the redhead's. The way Karen tasted, knowing that she was on Karen's lips before Karen's lips were on her, nearly convinced her that she was going to come again. "Karen, I…" she started, only managing a whisper.

"Shhhh…" Karen put her finger to Grace's lips as she hovered above, the diabolical smirk that started all of this in the first place. She couldn't possibly have anything more in store for her. There was no way.

But the look in Karen's eyes told a different story.

"Now, honey," Karen murmured, her lips within an inch of Grace's, "if I untie you...what are _you_ going to do for _me?"_

And Grace knew she was blissfully, wonderfully screwed.

* * *

Good lord, Grace looked so stunning when she was spent. The way her hair was tousled, the way her lips parted as she tried to catch her breath. The way her voice found its way to her sighs every so often, and the way that voice had a hint of a smile in it. It nearly made her want to get rid of the act altogether, lay down with the redhead and take her in her arms, stroke her hair, take things slow. It had been a long time since she had done that with someone, a long time since she had _wanted_ to do that with someone. But that was not the fantasy du jour. Maybe some night, it will be. But not tonight.

Tonight, Karen got to have all of the control, and she was not complaining. She just didn't expect it to affect her so much.

All she wanted to do was give Grace what she wanted: wave the whip around a little bit, tie her to the headboard, give her the thrill she had been craving these last few days. If anything, she figured she could always give herself a moment alone afterwards if she needed a release; she never thought this night was about her when her plan came together, it was only ever about Grace. But every time she heard Grace moan for her, every time Grace trembled while she called out her name, when Grace said she needed Karen to fuck her _(needed,_ like she could not survive without Karen's tongue dancing between her legs), she felt it travel to her clit, making the pulse stronger and stronger until it started to throw off her concentration. Until it made her wish she had worn something a little easier to take off than a latex maid's uniform, but grateful that she had the foresight to go commando tonight.

Until she became overwhelmed with the desire for her boss to be inside of her.

She had to be strategic about it; she didn't want to kill the fantasy for the redhead, but goddammit, if Grace didn't do something to her soon, she was going to lose her mind. So once she felt Grace relax into the mattress, she knew she had found her window. She teased from above for a moment before plunging her lips into Grace's. "Karen, I…" she heard her whisper before she put her finger to Grace's lips.

"Shhhh…" She could feel Grace's lips move silently along her finger, trying to form some kind of response, and it sent sparks throughout her body. "Now, honey," she murmured, trying her damndest to keep up the act, "if I untie you...what are _you_ going to do for _me?"_

She saw the way Grace's eyes grew a little wider as the idea of getting her turn to touch her started to fill them. And after a breath, the redhead managed breathlessly, "I'll do anything you tell me." Hearing those words spill from her boss' lips was unlike anything she had ever heard before, made her want to rip the scarf away from the headboard right now and just let Grace touch her any way she wanted, because Karen knew in that moment, anything the redhead had up her sleeve would do the trick. But she couldn't resist one more moment playing like she had just jumped out of _Next to Godliness_ and into Grace's bed.

"I don't know, Grace," she drew out playfully. "You seem a little worn out. Can you _really_ give me what I want?"

Grace didn't skip a beat. "If you don't untie me, you'll never know."

Good. Fucking. _Lord._ The way Grace could turn it around like that was something to behold. It shook Karen to her core, made her fingers fly to the knot above Grace's head. But before she undid it, she looked down at the redhead's smirk staring up at her and nearly melted from the sight. She did her best to keep her voice as steady as possible. "Well, then...I guess we'll just have to find out," she purred, before she loosened the scarf that bound Grace's wrists.

The instant she was free from the restraint, Grace's hands shot to Karen's face like it was a magnetic pull, bringing the dark haired woman's lips to hers, their tongues colliding as Karen rolled onto her back and pulled the redhead on top of her. Karen couldn't contain her moan as she felt the weight of Grace against her, and it only got louder and longer as she felt Grace smile into her mouth as a response. She knew that it wouldn't take much to throw her into the ecstasy she hungered for. And as she looked up at Grace and saw her contemplating how to get the latex off of her, Karen knew she had to act before the anticipation became too much to bear. "Honey, forget about the dress," she said, her words wrapped in a moan. She grabbed Grace's wrist and slid her boss' touch between her legs. "Just put your hands on me."

Karen gasped as she felt Grace's fingers along her clit, not realizing at first that Grace had gasped, too. "Oh my god, Karen," the redhead murmured, letting her fingers travel circles, sighing in satisfaction every time Karen sighed in bliss. "How are you so wet right now?"

The dark haired woman wanted to answer, but Grace would not stop tracing the most sensational path along her clit, and jumbled her mind every time her fingers took a turn. "You—oh _fuck,_ Gracie, right there—you must really do it for me," she finally managed. She guided Grace's lips back to hers, the look in the redhead's eyes as she did it so radiantly bright, it nearly pushed Karen off the edge. But she wanted a little bit more. Grace let her kiss start traveling down Karen's neck as Karen tried to put a voice to her desire. "Harder, honey," she breathed. "A little bit harder."

She was expecting the extra pressure to her clit. She _wasn't_ expecting her body to start quaking over it. But Grace had found the spot on her neck that always threw her into overdrive—the spot Stan never found and never tried to find, the spot that hadn't been kissed in years—and set up camp there, and Karen could start to feel that unmistakable surge in her core. She needed to say something, needed to get Grace to crash all the way through her desires. And she needed to do it now.

"Deeper," Karen moaned, her hands clutching at the redhead's sheets.

"Are you sure?" Grace asked, pulling away from Karen's neck to meet her gaze, her smirk in full form the second she saw the way she was making her assistant's features twist in rapture.

"Deeper," Karen whimpered, trying her best to nod, wanting her boss to go back to that spot on her neck and live there for the rest of their days.

In an instant, Grace started drawing her tongue along Karen's neck as she slid two fingers inside of her, making the dark haired woman arch her back and moan a drawn out "_Fuck"_ at the sensation of it all. "Don't stop," she panted, over and over and over like it was the one thing that could keep Grace going. God, Karen couldn't remember the last time it felt this good. She couldn't even remember if it _ever_ felt this good. All that mattered, all she cared about, was the way it felt now.

All that mattered was how charged Grace's touch was, how Grace knew how to make her feel unbelievable euphoria by just twisting her fingers the right way.

All that mattered was Grace.

It wasn't long before Karen's walls closed in around Grace's fingers and her orgasm made her cries reverberate against every surface of the apartment. As her body went limp, she watched as Grace lowered herself beside her, still brilliantly inside of her for a few moments longer. She saw the shine of their afterglow in the redhead's eyes and couldn't believe how beautiful she was in this moment. In any moment, really. But especially this one. Because it was one thing to get off on the control (and the control certainly did its part tonight). It was another thing entirely to be able to see how it all affected the one you cared about, to be able to see how much pleasure she got from pleasuring you. And as she felt Grace's touch leave her, she was overwhelmed by everything she felt for the woman lying next to her.

She was seeing Grace in a new, incredible shimmering light. And she wanted it to shine on forever.

She just didn't know how much of that she should let the redhead in on.

Forgoing a full confession of her blissed-out and overly sentimental mind, she ran her fingers through Grace's wildfire curls and sighed. "Well, honey," she murmured, "I don't know if that was what you had in mind, but it sure got _me_ going." She plastered on a smile that wouldn't let her feelings spill out and let it grow wider as she watched Grace reciprocate.

"This production _definitely_ had the better ending," Grace said softly before she leaned in to gently brush her lips against Karen's, letting her fingers brush against the dark haired woman's cheek and linger. It felt like such an intimate gesture, one that only happened over time, one that promised so many more intimate gestures. Grace had kissed her like they had been together for years, so casual yet so important. And Karen slowly started to admit to herself that she wanted that. She wanted casual and important, she wanted years together.

She wanted Grace. But she didn't want to kill the moment with some lengthy talk about where they stand with each other now.

They could always talk tomorrow, carve out some time, sit down, have the discussion Karen knew had to happen. They could start examining their lives, wondering how the other truly fits in that puzzle later. But for now, Grace curled herself into Karen's side, and Karen wrapped her arms around Grace. For now, they didn't speak about the future, didn't really speak about anything, simply rode out the high of their night together. Because what else can you do? Forget about trying to make sense of it all, Karen. Forget about anything but this moment you've been given. Forget about everything but the way Grace feels when she slides her hand over your heart, the way Grace fits perfectly inside your arms. Forget about the way you want to feel these things every day. That is not what this night is about. This night is about fulfilling the fantasy, and that's exactly what you did. You can always figure out where to go from here when the sun comes up. But for now, find your happiness in the fact that both got what you wanted.

Because after all, that's what really counted.


	5. Epilogue

Karen loved a good reveal. The anticipation, the drama, the shock and excitement. You could make nearly anything feel spectacular if you just presented it the right way. But as she woke up alone in the manse and got herself ready for the day, she realized that this was the first time she could recall where an impending reveal was making her nervous. It was silly, really; it obviously wasn't that hard for her to tap into the confident, brazen attitude she exhibited the night before. It wasn't that hard to slap on a mask and power through anything that came her way. Any other time, she would have been able to take whatever was on the horizon in stride. So why did the idea of talking about what last night meant freak her out so much? Why was the thought of exploring this outside of the bedroom so daunting?

Oh, come on, Karen. You know exactly why. It was the same reason you found it so hard to leave Grace's apartment last night. The same reason you feel so full every time you think about the moments after the release, when everything calmed down and you were left with the redhead's gentle touch on your skin and the steady rhythm of her breathing lulling you into peace. The same reason you instantly went to the lengths you did to make her fantasy come to life.

She's gotten to you. And you can't stand to think what it would mean if you haven't gotten to her, too.

The ride to Grace Adler Designs felt so much longer than it usually did, the nerves and the anticipation of the morning after talk that was surely awaiting her at the office taking its toll on her. Grace would want to talk. Of course she would want to talk. Because everything meant something. But the road to figuring it all out seemed so intimidating in the light of the new day. There was no coming back from what they had done; they could only go forward. The only problem was that she wasn't sure if forward was as promising as she wanted it to be. And if she was being completely honest with herself, she was a little hesitant to find out.

There was a chance that she had just taken kerosene to her sanctuary and lit a match. And she didn't know what she was going to do with herself if she ended up standing in front of a pile of ashes.

She wasn't going to be the one to break the silence; she knew she'd fare so much better if she had something to bounce off of, if she could gauge Grace's state of mind before she tried to act. So when she walked into the office that morning, she threw her coat over the rack and settled into her workspace, waiting for the moment when Grace would finally look up from the sketch on her desk and seal the dark haired woman's fate one way or another. When the redhead finally did register that she wasn't alone, her gaze shifted, and Karen could see the way her eyes looked so bright in the midst of the morning after. And after days of nervous glances and dimmed shine, it surprised her to see Grace like this. But it felt so good to soak up this light. It made her hopeful.

It made her feel like maybe they were on their way to something good.

Grace couldn't contain the smile that started to play across her face. "You know, if you had stuck around last night, we could have come in together," she said, and Karen could swear she heard a tinge of playfulness in her voice.

She let out a small, breathless laugh. "Honey, I didn't have a change of clothes; something tells me the latex wouldn't go over so well with your clients."

The redhead's smile grew a little wider. "Karen, have you _seen_ you in that dress? My clients would have been just fine."

God, could they really joke about this? Could it really be this light? Could they really pretend like what they did last night didn't just throw everything up in the air? Because that wasn't just something you did and moved on from. That wasn't something that carried no repercussions. This was no longer fleeting touches and casual flirting. This was going so far over the line that you couldn't even be sure there was ever a line in the first place. And Grace seemed so suspiciously fine with it all. _Too_ fine, especially for someone who couldn't even cop to the fantasy the other day. Karen expected Grace to fidget the same way she had been doing, avoid the subject like there was no tomorrow, except this time, it would be fidgeting and evading for a different reason (and this time, it would surely hurt Karen a little more). But maybe this was a red flag too, this bright, carefree air that seemed to surround her boss. Maybe this is what Grace looked like when she was deflecting.

Maybe the rug was about to be torn out from under her.

"Hey, um..." Grace started after a moment, "about last night…" Devil. Nothing good ever comes from those three words, at least never in Karen's experience. This was exactly why she wanted to wait until Grace said something, so she wouldn't look like a fool, so she could still keep herself intact while she tried to ignore the disappointment and heartache. But she didn't think she could take whatever was about to spill from Grace's lips. So she found a voice that was too bright for its own good and cut the redhead off while her heart was still in one piece.

"Honey, shouldn't _I_ be giving _you_ this speech? I mean, I'm the one who barged in on you last night."

"I know, I just...I think I owe you an explanation. I've been terrible to you the last couple of days."

The dark haired woman shrugged, found herself halfway between a joke and sincerity. "You were pretty good to me last night," she murmured.

"You were pretty phenomenal to _me,"_ Grace said with such a genuine softness, it floored Karen. "It's just that I wasn't quite sure what it meant for me to _want_ you to be phenomenal to me." The redhead took a step closer to Karen's desk, and then another and another, until she was within inches of her assistant. She took a seat on the edge of Karen's desk and took a breath. "That video...it kind of cemented the way I've been feeling about you since we met. You know, people came in for this job who were actually qualified...no offense…" Karen couldn't help but laugh; she knew she would never win Employee of the Month even though she was the only one in the running, "but then you came in, and I knew I just didn't want to miss out on you. And even when we got closer, I could almost put it all in the back of my mind. Then I saw the video, and I couldn't really hide from it anymore. So I tried to hide from _you._ And I hate that I tried to hide from you."

Karen had expected the rug to be torn out from under her. She was in no way expecting such an open confession to cement the rug in its place. She let her hand rest on Grace's knee, comforting, supporting, just to let the redhead know she was truly there. "Gracie, you could have told me," she said, nearly a whisper. "We could have worked through it."

"How could I tell you when I wasn't even sure what it was you were doing to me? I've never felt this before with anyone. I still don't know if I have it fully figured out." Grace locked her eyes on Karen's. "But I know I don't want you to stop doing it to me."

"Well, honey...why would I ever stop?"

Grace startled at the question, her eyes growing a little wider. "Really?"

"Yes! Come on, Grace...you know I like to tease you, but do you _really_ think I would put all of that together if I didn't want it too?"

"I don't know…" Grace sounded so playful in that moment, and Karen wondered how she could bounce back like that so quickly. If she was being honest, it kind of impressed her. "You don't have the best relationship with boundaries."

The dark haired woman started to match the smile growing on the redhead's lips. "Oh, please...you know that's what drew you to me in the first place."

Grace's shrug was the most endearing thing Karen had ever seen. "Maybe…" she drew out before she started to get a little more serious. "I just wish I knew what to do with that. I wish I knew what it meant for us."

Karen was never one for fully baring her soul to anybody. But hearing the redhead's concern, and realizing it mirrored her own, made her trust a little more than she usually did. "Look, honey…" she started, taking a deep breath before sighing it out. Just do it, Karen. Just tell her how you feel. "I almost didn't leave last night. I kept looking over at you, kept thinking about the way you touched me. Good lord, I love the way you touched me. No one's touched me like that in...I don't think anyone's ever touched me like that. And I don't know if it's only the version of me you saw in that video that does it for you. But I really hope it's not."

She felt Grace's fingers brush her hair behind her ear, the redhead's boldness starting to show in such a beautiful way, like she finally realized it was okay to act on the things she's always wanted to act on. And in that moment, Karen wanted to find a way for Grace to keep surprising her for the rest of their days. "I know you've seen me checking you out before," Grace murmured, her voice dancing along Karen's ear. "I think you _know_ it's not." And she let her touch fall to Karen's chin, leading the dark haired woman out of her seat and to her lips.

God, that kiss, the way she could feel Grace smile against her. It felt so full of hope, so full of possibility, it nearly made Karen's knees buckle. She felt the way Grace slid off the desk to pull her in closer, the redhead wrapping her arms around her like she was always supposed to live there. She wasn't sure what the future held for them; she had no clue if this was a passing moment, or if this was meant to last. But the uncertainty didn't seem so hard to live with when Grace's tongue brushed against hers. It made her eager to ride the wave, to see where it took them.

Because right now, she had the strongest feeling that no matter where it took them, the ride would be so overwhelmingly worth it.

Grace started to pull away, and Karen instinctively tried to follow her kiss. "It's not fair, you know," the redhead murmured.

"What's not?" Karen whispered, trying to inch herself closer to Grace's lips. Good lord, all she wanted was the taste of her, it was driving Karen mad that she couldn't get it right now.

Grace let her touch linger along Karen's collarbone, sending shivers throughout her assistant's body. "You stripped me down to nothing last night," she smiled, her sultriest whisper winding its way through the air. "But as much as I appreciated your getup...that pesky latex kept me from doing the same to you."

That alone would have been enough to make Karen melt. But it was when Grace pressed her lips to that sweet spot on Karen's neck that the dark haired woman had to grab on to her boss' body for dear life, pressing herself against the redhead. "_How_ do you do that?" she thought, unable to believe that Grace could target it so perfectly every time, and it wasn't until she felt Grace's giggle reverberate against her skin that she realized she said it out loud. It was all too much; they needed to do something soon.

She needed Grace to do something to her soon.

She waited until Grace pulled her kiss away from her neck and tried to catch her eye. "Well," she started, shifting her gaze to the front door of the office with a smirk, "why don't you lock the door so we can level the playing field?"

The spark of light in Grace's eyes was blinding as the redhead rushed to the door to ensure their privacy. Karen followed her across the office as she started slinking her way towards the swatch room, nearly crashing into Grace as the redhead stopped at her desk to bend over and dig through the tote bag on the floor. "Honey," she drew out, the promise of Grace's hands on her skin coloring her voice with the slightest hint of impatience. "What's the hold up?"

Grace sifted through the tote bag, keeping her focus on the contents inside. "Relax," she said playfully. "It'll be worth it, I swear. Brought it with me just in case…" Karen heard Grace's triumphant "Ha!" a moment later, straightening herself up from her crouched position with a contented sigh. She turned to face Karen with the most radiantly smug grin on her face.

And the dark haired woman's breath hitched when she saw the feather duster clutched in the redhead's hand.

Karen felt the butterflies in her core start to come alive. Grace had a plan. Small enough that it could be passed off as a joke if necessary, but still...it was a plan. And she couldn't believe that Grace had a plan. She thought back to the moment she decided to use the duster on Grace, felt her boss' question then taking shape between her lips now. "What are you going to do with it?"

The way Grace's laugh fell into her lowest register nearly made Karen melt on the spot. "Just trust me," she smirked, the memory of last night hovering above them so brilliantly, the promise of the redhead turning the tables on the dark haired woman so vivid, it was all Karen could see. "I'll take care of you, I promise." Grace reached out her free hand, waiting for Karen to take it. She sighed when Karen grabbed on, her smirk growing as Karen gave her a little squeeze.

And then she led her to the swatch room.


End file.
